Deep and infinite, the night was a velvet cloak penetrated only by the moon's chilly glow. Its silver light overflowing over the battlements of our shattered planet, it hung low over the countryside as if weighed down by old secrets. Alone on a jagged ledge, I stood while the pleasant murmur of the wind in the pines mingled with something else—an unclear chorus of voices that seemed to reverberate from far beyond the veil of time.
Deep within me I could feel the tug of the Crescent Mark on my flesh, a never-ending reminder of the lineage I bore, the cost of power that was both my gift and my curse. Fighting in the cause of the Crescent Bloodline, I had battled for so long against treachery, sorrow, and never-ending conflict. Now, with the moon shining gently on my face, I understood that its quiet words would expose what I had been too terrified to confront this evening.
